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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29942766">Of Siren Songs and Sea Shanties</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GarbzLarbzTheBoi/pseuds/GarbzLarbzTheBoi'>GarbzLarbzTheBoi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/M, Fantasy, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Inspired by Dungeons &amp; Dragons, Inspired by Pirates of the Caribbean, Orcs, Romance, Sirens, Slow Burn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 23:47:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,035</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29942766</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GarbzLarbzTheBoi/pseuds/GarbzLarbzTheBoi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>John Everyn Sordein is a sailor for a private pirating company in the country of Zandellis.</p><p>He'd spent his adulthood taking commissions with his crew, including his best friend Cryslah (a rather provocative teifling woman), the Old Captain (of whom no one knows his actual name), and a few other choice characters.</p><p>He'd heard rumors about sirens. How dangerous and bloodthirsty they were, how hunting corps were made just to wipe them off the face of the planet, and how even one song from a siren would most likely spell out your doom. He's always hated sirens. Not just for their misdeeds they had already committed, but for the looming threat they imposed over his crew. He'd always hated sirens...</p><p>... never did he once think he'd start to fall for one.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>John Everyn Sordein/Prescilla Avery, Original Female Character/Original Male Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Of Siren Songs and Sea Shanties</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A very big thank you to Raef Darksbane for editing this chapter!  Like, seriously, amazing work from him.</p><p>Check him out on AO3 and FFN by the same name, and you can find him on Evil Angel's Discord Server (https://discord.gg/VfcRG89N2V) or Epsi's Hoard</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>In a time where magic ran wild and the ancient myths and legends roamed reality, somewhere in the far-off country of Zandellis—a place where creatures of any and all shapes, sizes, and species live in near-harmony—a sailor had his first laugh of the night. John Everyn Sordein, a great acquaintance to the rules and laws of his world, slammed his pint of mead down and fired back at his crewmate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, Cryslah; based on the fact that you’re quite literally being watched by every male—and all genders otherwise—in this bar, I’d say I’m the less attractive out of us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His drunken crewmate sputtered out a protest, but it fell on deaf ears. John knew he was nothing special. Sure, he was tall and muscular, but that was it. He had a multitude of ugly scars, and his face was especially marred by them. Claw marks and cuts raked up his neck and cheek, almost reaching his eye. His nose was slightly crooked from many breaks and fractures. Bullet holes and stab scars riddled his body, making his arms and chest… mildly unattractive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lifted his mug up to take another drink of mead, passively watching as Cryslah decided to wink at an unsuspecting patron, causing him to stumble out of his seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s when he heard it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sound more beautiful than any other, something that instantly pulled his attention away from his drink and his crew, rang in his ears. A sweet song that seemed like it was composed for him and him alone. The melody was only a few notes, but those few notes captivated him. After maybe a second or two, it stopped as suddenly as it had started, leaving him to wallow in the cacophony of the bar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Johnny Boy? You good?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John turned to his superior, the old captain, and nodded slowly. "Yeah… just heard something. Probably had too much to drink."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except he hadn’t. That wasn’t the last time he heard the song either. Over the next few weeks, he would frequently hear brief snatches of the song. Only he could hear it, and it always snuffed itself out before he could pay it any mind. It would usually happen twice a day, once in the morning and once in the late evening, with some exceptions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few weeks after the first song, John heard it once more at the docks while helping his crew load up for a short trip to the next port over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John turned over to the crewmate directly under his command and whispered in his ear, "Maurice, you're in charge." Then, he turned back to the rest of the ship hands he had been given charge of. "Alright men! Take a quick break, eat something to get some energy back, then get back to work! You leave at noon, which is in an hour or so. If I'm not back by then, leave without me!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The men nodded and started dispersing from their work, leaving nothing to stop him from pursuing the song.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He followed the general direction of the song he had heard, which was directly through a deep slum a couple dozen meters away from the docks. Walking through a maze of turns down a collection of side streets and past a number of clearly decrepit homes he took reluctant note of, he ended up arriving at an abandoned park. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The park was nothing special. There were a few aqueducts supplying a central fountain with water. On the edge of the park, there was a wall separating the edge of the park and the aquifers. The wall extended down a couple feet before it made contact with the river. Weeds, shrubbery, and flowering plants had overtaken the area, which left the benches, decorations, and play area green with life. But in one of the aqueducts lay a woman, naked save for a wrap of cloth covering her ample chest. Her mind seemed to be elsewhere, as she appeared to be unconscious of her surroundings. Her legs—no, her lower body—her lower body was submerged under the water. She didn't have legs. She had a tail. Beautiful iridescent scales covered her body from the waist down, adorning powerful muscle with bright hues of red, orange, and gold. Her tail fin was wide and reminiscent of webbed fan coral, having a translucent orange color.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Uhm… hello?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John spoke with trepidation. This was a siren. Many sea lovers had told tales of viscous sirens. Beautiful on the outside, ravenous and bloodthirsty on the inside. His hand drifted to a knife hanging sheathed at his waist. Should the beast—</span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Should the girl,’</span>
  </em>
  <span> his mind supplied—attack him, it would be best he not fall to her song before he could get a good slash in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The siren turned smoothly, moving from her position laying face-up to a chest-down, over-the-shoulder glance. Her eyes widened, filling with surprise, then scrutiny, then fear. Her scales and body shivered, the shudder running through her spine freezing her in place. John relaxed his stance in reaction to her fearful expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I mean you no harm, siren."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She calmed at John's words, but only slightly so. He felt bad, as it was technically a lie. He meant her no harm </span>
  <em>
    <span>if</span>
  </em>
  <span> she meant </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> no harm in kind. She still gazed at him with caution, as if she was afraid of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What are you doing here?" they both asked at once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They froze in surprise, one pair of brown and human eyes widening in unison with a pair of scarlet red and golden yellow ones.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ava then spoke up, her voice shaking slightly. "Sorry, y-you first."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He raised a brow in slight skepticism. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘She's nervous, but not overly so. Shy, even.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"All right then. What are you doing here?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The siren took a second to think before speaking. "This park is my usual spot to relax. Not many people come here anymore, if any at all. Usually I sit here, sing a song, then relax."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her arms gently crossed over her chest, palms slightly out and primed to strike out. Her head was down, eyes looking up at John, acting as if she was submissive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright, I've told you why I'm here. Your turn." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her gaze on John showed a piqued interest. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘She must've been telling the truth when she said no one usually comes here.’</span>
  </em>
  <span> John raised his hand from his belt, not wanting to seem any more hostile than he already did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I heard your call."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes widened once more, this time filled with regret and… an apology?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I… oh gods, I'm sorry. I thought I'd be far away enough. How… how long have you been hearing me sing?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her tone was melancholic, as if hearing her sing was the last thing she wanted for him. John thought she was strange. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘A siren who is not only terrified of man, but distraught at the knowledge that one had heard her sing. Truly an… unorthodox combination of traits.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"A few weeks now. Since two months ago, if I were to give you a date."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ohhhhhh gods… I… Crap. How… how drawn were you to the song?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once again, John raised an eyebrow. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Why is this siren worried about such trivial things? She's apologetic—which is odd enough as it is—but now she's worried about how drawn to her I am?’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not very. You seem young and your songs are usually short. Even so, they prevent me from hearing my surroundings properly."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighed, muttering thanks to whatever gods she may be worshipping.</span>
</p><p><span>"G-good… That's good…" She took a practiced breath. She then extended her hand out, making a friendly attempt to reach over to him, and offered him a handshake. She was still slightly shaking—either out of fear of him or the effects of her song on him, John didn’t know.</span> <span>“My name is Prescilla Avery. But most people call me Ava. It’s nice to meet you.”</span></p><p>
  <span>John slowly approached her, cursing himself. He had to admit, this siren was beautiful. But he wasn’t going to let that fool him. Sirens were known for deceiving sailors and acting sweet in order to lure them to their deaths. At any time, she could pounce on him. He made a move to take her hand and shake it, but she flinched away. He took his hand back, sighing quietly. Her face was still frightened, but significantly less terrified. She smiled apologetically to him, which he took with a nod.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pleasure indeed. John Everyn Sordein. Call me John.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As her smile brightened—even if it was just a tad—he felt something in his chest drop. He looked into her eyes, taking in the gorgeous reds, oranges, and golds that perfectly matched her tail. He noticed the light dusting of freckles on her face and how they swept across her cheeks and nose. He saw how her auburn hair draped around and perfectly framed her face, making her look like a gorgeous painting.  He thought about how her smile showed a bit of her teeth, and the cute gap between the front two. The smile that was moving… was she talking?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“—ohn? John! JOHN!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He blinked out of his stupor and refocused on Ava. Her face was alight with a heavy blush—</span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Cute’, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-you spa-spaced out there for a s-sec. You okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, why?” He looked at her with a neutral face. </span>
  <em>
    <span>'Her stutter is adorable,' </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought to himself.</span>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re b-bl-blushing…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John blinked again, then looked in the aquifer, which provided him with a convenient mirror made of water. Sure enough, he was blushing a bright scarlet color. His eyes had dilated too, showing how… intently he had been looking at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"O-oh…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He backed up from her, covering his blush with his hand. </span>
  <em>
    <span>'What are you doing, John? This is a siren. Not a beautiful young lady—NO! STOP IT!'</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>John took a second to cough out the butterflies in his chest and compose himself. When he spoke, he spoke slowly, carefully picking each word. “It’s been… an interesting… experience meeting you. I recommend you stay away from this park from now on. The docks near here are being used again, so you’re going to have a harder time hiding.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ava blinked, then nodded, her blush only getting brighter. “Y-yes! Right! Uh… I-it’s been nice meeting you! Right. I’ll uh… I’ll go… now…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watched as she shifted over in the aquifer and swam out to the edge of the aquifer she was laying in. Then she exploded out of the water and jumped over the span of concrete pathing separating the park from the river. She sailed forward and landed in the river, splashing down with barely any noise. A perfect dive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John rolled his eyes. “Wait!” His tone was annoyed, as if Ava had forgotten her left arm right in front of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ava popped her head up out of the water to look back up at the park. John threw down the sheath to his knife, which held the small blade. She looked up at him in confusion and tilted her head. He gave her an annoyed glare, though it held a bit of fondness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keep this. Other sailors won’t be so merciful on you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John noticed she opened her mouth to reply, but closed it immediately after. Her face sprawled through a collection of different expressions, leading from confused, to thoughtful, to flushed, then finally to accepting. Although, he did notice that her 'accepting' expression seemed to be a bit begrudging. Then she twisted around and swam away into the river, making her way downstream and to the open sea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John nodded to himself, satisfied, as he started waking back to the docks. As he arrived, he looked up at the mid-afternoon sun and sighed. His crew had left, it was past the scheduled lunch time, and he started to notice a fatigue building in his legs from standing all day. How long had he been talking to that siren?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>However long it had been, both John and Ava went about the rest of their days thinking the same thing:</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘What is this feeling…?’</span>
  </em>
</p>
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